Yesterday, I was going to blog approximately along these lines:

Love is bullshit. I am increasingly tired of the bullshit that is meeting and dating people. I will check you out, I will judge you, you will judge me, we will base these judgements on incomplete and often inaccurate information. Why do we pretend otherwise? It's all just a hopelessly inefficient arrangement in which we attempt to find someone who will agree to fuck us, and then the emotional attachment evolves post-hoc as a way of tying us together a little bit more firmly. It's all a glorified mating instinct dressed up in the rationalizations our frontal lobes invent to keep us from realising just how close to animals we are all the time in everything we do. And no one has agreed to fuck me. Therefore I am worthless, and I should stop trying to impress people with my personality since all of that is the bullshit part and if they don't like my body the rationalization that they love me for who I really am will never kick in. Bitter and single, that's me.

Then I saw Love Actually, which is a thoroughly over-the-top slushy romantic comedy. I mean, really, totally over the top. More trumpets and happy looks than you can shake a stick at. But whatever, it gave me a warm feeling, and the following blog-thought:

Love is glorious. Some day it will happen to me. Let's think... what would be the perfect way? I know:

Some day some sarcastic asshole who's too clever by half will read my blog -- since that's a geeky way to meet, and hey, geeky is what I go for -- and be sufficiently interested in what I have to say that he will get in touch. We will instantly find we have an enormous amount in common, and find each other fascinating, and the conversation will flow like an endless torrent whenever we are together. He will of course be an excellent dancer, with fantastic fashion sense and the anti-authoritarian indie-streak that I absolutely require. Of course he will also be geeky; not so geeky as to be threatening to my own alpha-geek sensibilities of course, but geeky enough to remain interested and comment intelligently when I start blathering about technological matters. It will be love, and it will happen to me.

Oh wait. That already happened. I remember. And I fucked it up.

Well, maybe it will happen again.

Love is bullshit.
Love is glorious.
Either way, I crave it.
Love, love, love.